"If simply wishing were enough," Solomon said, "you wouldn't have a hole through your heart." He smiled wryly, because it was true. If China could simply wish that she hadn't tried to command Gabe's true name, and it made that large a difference, it wouldn't have torn such a large piece out of her.
If simply wishing were enough, Skulduggery wouldn't have to struggle day by day to avoid breaking.
Solomon remained silent, watching with fascination the way China's web began to spin. Not the edges. It wasn't expanding. But something in her centre, at that hole, began to weave together. Not enough to even remotely begin to make the hole go away, but ... enough that most of the trailing edges vanished. This was what the Archangels saw, he realised with a jolt. This was what it looked like when people came to their choices. It made an obvious, tangible difference. China had made a choice, and already it was filling the hole.
Corrival was right. Being told what to do by a nearly all-powerful being and trusting the being enough to do it without asking questions would have crippled them in ways Solomon could barely begin to imagine.
"Gabe, Rafe and Merlin have declined to help for ethical reasons," he said, "but before they did they implied that we might be able to save Bliss's life. So to speak. We need to do two things. Firstly, we need to rebuild the reflections into one, so that one will be strong enough to act as a vessel for Bliss's soul. He'll have a life ... much like Skulduggery's, really. It won't be a real body, but he'll be able to act on the world around him. And you've already brought up the second thing. We need an alternative to the Cleavers. Valkyrie has already gone to ask Kenspeckle Grouse what he can come up with."
He thought for a moment, considering her final question. "I wouldn't say time is of the essence," he said finally. "I'm not sure he even has a full sense of time in there. He won't be harmed, technically speaking, if we take a few days to replace the Cleavers. That's Corrival's order, either way."
But it was a kind of Hell Bliss was in, of that Solomon had no doubt. Whether he could tell the passing of days or not, every moment he was trapped in there would be a painless sort of agony.
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If simply wishing were enough, Skulduggery wouldn't have to struggle day by day to avoid breaking.
Solomon remained silent, watching with fascination the way China's web began to spin. Not the edges. It wasn't expanding. But something in her centre, at that hole, began to weave together. Not enough to even remotely begin to make the hole go away, but ... enough that most of the trailing edges vanished. This was what the Archangels saw, he realised with a jolt. This was what it looked like when people came to their choices. It made an obvious, tangible difference. China had made a choice, and already it was filling the hole.
Corrival was right. Being told what to do by a nearly all-powerful being and trusting the being enough to do it without asking questions would have crippled them in ways Solomon could barely begin to imagine.
"Gabe, Rafe and Merlin have declined to help for ethical reasons," he said, "but before they did they implied that we might be able to save Bliss's life. So to speak. We need to do two things. Firstly, we need to rebuild the reflections into one, so that one will be strong enough to act as a vessel for Bliss's soul. He'll have a life ... much like Skulduggery's, really. It won't be a real body, but he'll be able to act on the world around him. And you've already brought up the second thing. We need an alternative to the Cleavers. Valkyrie has already gone to ask Kenspeckle Grouse what he can come up with."
He thought for a moment, considering her final question. "I wouldn't say time is of the essence," he said finally. "I'm not sure he even has a full sense of time in there. He won't be harmed, technically speaking, if we take a few days to replace the Cleavers. That's Corrival's order, either way."
But it was a kind of Hell Bliss was in, of that Solomon had no doubt. Whether he could tell the passing of days or not, every moment he was trapped in there would be a painless sort of agony.